


Ward of Asgard

by bioticgoddess



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticgoddess/pseuds/bioticgoddess
Summary: Notes: I used Tolkien Elven where I couldn’t find an appropriate mythological name (Greek for the Elves, because why the eff not).





	1. Chapter 1

**WARD OF ASGARD: INTRODUCTION  
**

_A long time ago…_

It was the anniversary of the final battle against the Dark Elves and the desolation of Svartalfheim. In Odin’s main hall stood Arantar Tavasion, his eldest daughter Althea, his son and crown prince Gelathir, and youngest daughter Silwen. The younger children took after their father with fair skin, blue eyes and silver hair. Althea, however, resembled her mother - a native of the Elphame’s woodland realm. Her hair was dark and hung in heavy curling waves as her starry eyes scanned the room.

She wasn’t paying attention to the discussions had by their kingly fathers, try though she might. As always happened, her longtime playmate and friend Loki conjured distractions that continuously drew her attention from the two rulers to him. He had a goal to make her laugh whenever the Elves ventured to Asgard. And usually succeeded. 

Despite the irrational dislike that Arantar Tavasion held for the boy, he couldn’t ignore the impact his friendship had on Althea. 

The eyes of all princes and princesses present seemed to glaze over as the two rulers spoke in grandiose terms. All despite the expectation that the five children stand on their respective sides of the room and pay attention. After several hours (though the youths had to admit it seemed more like days), the Elven king summoned Althea to the head of the table.

The girl walked slowly, closing the distance between she and  her father all too quickly for comfort. Once by his side, Althea asked in Elven, “ _< Yes father?>_” All three of Elphame’s royal children spoke Asgardian; a sudden fear, however, drove her to her native tongue.

“You must stay behind, here, my little one,” her father answered, voice low but gentle. Confusion colored the girl’s face as he continued, “You’re the one who makes all the peace and happiness we’ve known between Elphame and Asgard possible child.” It was evident how deeply leaving his eldest cut the king, but he explained that it was the only way to ensure a lasting alliance. He was older than Odin and had fought in Svartalfheim as a younger man alongside the Asgardians’ father. Gently he fluffed his daughter’s dark hair and smiled at her. “The Lady Frigga has volunteered to have you as her ward,” he swallowed, forcing a smile,  “It will be like home.”

That was a lie and even the young girl knew it. They all did. Save, perhaps, for Loki. He watched silently as his playmate was led to stand on the same side of the room as he and Thor did. Their mother’s arms open to greet the confused girl.  

A plan sparked in the young Asgardian Prince’s mind and a smile spread momentarily across his face. Thor whispered in his brother’s ear, “What mischief are you plotting now brother?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with brother. Nothing at all,” Loki hissed back quickly as thee two kings concluded their long discussions. The gears turned in his mind as the days discussions concluded and all were dismissed from the Great Hall.  


	2. Chapter 2

Loki had spent the intervening weeks working on Althea. That wasn’t the right way, in his mind, to describe every day that he spent hoping to make his oldest friend feel more at home. More like she hadn’t been left behind by her family.

No, each day he met her near the library, the main halls, or wherever he found her first thing in the morning. Like the dozens of days before, Althea’s hair was bound up and off her face, eyes far away, and not even the faintest hint of a smile on her face. If Althea were ever to relax and let Asgard be her home then he needed the Elvish princess to smile again; or laugh, or otherwise acknowledge that she had not given up entirely. 

He could only imagine how she must be reeling, separate from everything she had ever known. Only imagine how small the Elf’s world must feel now. More than he was willing to admit, her despair was like a knife had been driven into his chest.

In coping with her separation,  she’d kept all of them just outside arms reach. Before her exile, for truthfully becoming Frigga’s ward was more of an exile than anything else, she had been bright. She had been his friend. More than that he though sometimes as they’d grown over the years - despite how slowly both Asgardians and Elves aged. After all, they were still very much considered children in their respective homes. 

She’d been in Asgard for weeks, months maybe. And he persisted - partially at his mother’s insistence, she’d always been fond of the girl too. “Althea, come, you must be bored to tears locking yourself up in the palace day in and out,” he said one day, following her along the corridor between her room and one of the more secluded sitting rooms.

“And you plan to rectify that how my Prince,” she said, painfully formal. But at least she was speaking to him again. A feat his brother could not claim.

Taking two large steps he turned and cut the elf off, “How long have we known each other Althea?”

“Since we were younglings,” she sighed, unamused by his persistence.

“Good. You remember,” he said, “Then you need not be so formal. So polite. You are, after all, technically an equal, both to Thor and myself.” He was snaking his way down a path in his mind as he spoke with the elf.  “And now you have far more privilege than any mere visitor would, even one of royal lineage,” he added softly, smiling at her from under his dark hair.  

Shaking her head, Althea countered, “Privilege is nothing when you are left in a foreign land - familiarity not withstanding. When every part of me yearns for those stars and trees.” The serene mask she’d worn since her family’s departure fell and Loki saw just how heavily her new life weighed upon the princess. Her eyes were dull and full of sorrow, when normally they were as bright and clear as the stars. The light had gone out of her smile and her voice was soft, a shadow of itself.

“This will not do,” he said quickly. “No, you will not be diminished simply because you are here.”

He grabbed her hand, startling the elf, and practically dragged her through the castle. Loki was intent on ensuring his companion returned to being her old jovial self.  After all, who else would help him cause mischief whenever things fell into line?

Down stone corridors and stairwells he led the Elf, until a heavy wooden door stood before them. Inlaid in the top of it was a window of cut glass, Yggdrasil and the nine realms drawn before them in shades of gold and blue,  that cast rainbows along the floor and up the walls towards them. Loki released her hand and went to the door, stopping when she didn’t follow. His palms pressed against the smooth wood, he turned to face the Princess, “Well, are you coming?”

Rolling her eyes, arms crossed over her chest, Althea asked, “What is this Loki?”

“Come with me and you’ll see,” he said again, smiling broadly at her.  When she made no move towards him, despite his outstretched hand, he added, “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”  His smile was even broader, eyes glimmering with a familiar hint of mischief.

Chuckling, she shook her head. The movement was almost imperceptible, almost. “There she is,” he whispered. Althea reached out, taking Loki’s offered hand. When he backed through the door she followed, This time willingly. The faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth when they stepped out into the sun. 

“How is this possible,” she whispered, moving past him as far as their intertwined hands would allow. Surrounding them was a woodland with all the trappings of Elphame. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn they’d traveled down one of Loki’s secret paths and gone to any number of the woodland regions of Elphame. The trees were tall, their leaves a dark emerald, and her eyes glittered again. “Loki,” she asked, hand slipping from his, “How did you do this?” 

There was awe and wonder painted on the edge of her words and she turned to face him. What she hadn’t asked, was why he’d done this. “How isn’t important dear princess,” he explained. “What’s important is the why.” He could see the smile, small though it had been slowly disappear from his friend’s face. “I did it for you, Althea. Because you deserve to feel like you’re part of this house, this family.”

 Not that the family of Odin Allfather was very family like. Thor was the clear favorite for the throne, and much of everything else, Loki usually took the blame for anything Thor did, and their mother did her best to mediate. It had been helpful as children, when Loki first used magic and got himself into trouble at every turn. Especially when he and Althea disappeared, for the hundredth time, during a diplomatic visit. Only to be caught playing in some far flung part of the palace. “I know nothing will ever replace Elphame, your friends and family there,” he said, the elf giving him an almost pleading look, “But you will always have me.” He swallowed, re-affirming a promise he’d made her after earning his silver-tongued reputation, “And I will always be true to you.”

The smile that spread across her face and the blush that colored her face made Loki’s heart skip a beat. He’d succeeded, even if it was just the first step in the road.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor handed his mount off to one of the stable-boys, looking curiously at his brother. The entire journey from Nornheim, unfortunately one that prevented them from using the bifrost, he had spoken little. When the younger Odinson did speak it had been about Althea. There was a look on his face, one that Thor only really ever saw when their father spoke of their mother. Or cast a boyish glance her way when the Queen’s attention was elsewhere. Come to think of it, he’d seen much of that behavior mirrored in his brother over the course of Althea’s stay in Asgard. Growing more frequent in recent years.

“Brother,” he asked suddenly, causing Loki to stop – handing his own steed off to the stable hands. “Are you infatuated with Althea?” What else could it be? She couldn’t possibly be a real candidate for anything more than a companion. Despite what he’d seen, there was no way Loki could seriously have developed a genuine attachment for her. Or anyone.

The younger prince chuckled then immediately fell serious. “No. I’m not infatuated with her. I love her.” The way he said it was so matter of fact it suggested that this was not the first time he’d said those words aloud.

“Wait. What,” Thor stammered, mouth agape and eyes wide. That was impossible. Now it was his turn to laugh. This had to be some game of his, he was trying to pull one over on the thunder god. “I’m sorry brother, but I think your jest may be crueler than even you are prone to brother,” he said, a smile on his face.

Eyes narrowed, Loki squared upon his brother, “Why does everything believe me insincere where Althea is concerned?! She at least has confidence in me,” he said finally, smiling at the thought of the elf.  Even more so than his mother, she could always tell the differences between his half-truths, outright lies, and illusions (magical or verbal) and the truths. More importantly, he had kept his childhood promise to always be honest with her. That extended to everything, he’d found himself confiding in and unburdening himself to her at every turn in ways he never dreamed possible before she became a permanent fixture in Asgard.

This time, when he his eyes went wide – like a startled hart – Thor didn’t think it was a cruel joke. No. He was certain now that Loki’s attachment to her was real. Not a think he ever expected to see happen to his little brother. Loki take a consort one day? Perhaps. But a proper partner? The idea was counter to everything he presumed about the green and gold clad prince.

“I’m sorry brother, I did not mean to presume your cared not for her. It’s just,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “It’s not something anyone, perhaps, expected of you.”

For a time they  strolled through the stables in silence, making their way towards the palace entrance. When they reached the door, Thor placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I am glad for you brother,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. Passing through the door he asked, “How long have you and she?”

“A while,” was all the response his brother gave. “I prefer not to discuss such intimate details Thor.” For Loki. his relationship with Althea was precious in all its forms. There was much they did or would need to share when the time came, even as they begin letting others know they had chosen to be together. Until that time, however, they had agreed to keep their private life – private. They had only recently agreed to include Thor and Sif in the number of people who knew about them. Which now totaled three.

Before that moment, only Lady Frigga had known about the pair. Unlike Thor, she had deduced the change in attachment by watching her ward and younger son. The way they sat together, spoke, looks given to each other when no one else was looking, etc. all told her a story most missed. Especially the Elves. They had, for the time, remained oblivious. And she saw how strained the pair were whenever visitors and envoys from Elphame were around. Althea more than Loki feared the retribution as her father grew impatient for her to be married off to a prince. His preference, Thor, was no secret to the Asgardian King and Queen (nor even Althea). But the treaty of alliance hadn’t been that specific – Odin would never have signed it all those years ago if it had been,

Loki snapped out of his mental wandering a melodic voice called his name. He’d practically walked through her when Althea rounded the corner towards the stables. “Loki,” she whispered as his steps stuttered to a stop.

“I am fine,” he promised, “Just lost in thought.”

“I’ll see you two, ahem, later,” Thor said, excusing himself quickly. The blonde princeling glided down the corridor at speed as his brother stopped.

Loki’s hands found their way to rest on her shoulders. The Princess was practically a full head shorter than the dark haired Asgardian. As he brought his hands down along her arms, ‘til they interlaced with her own, he said, “He didn’t believe me you. About us.” Shaking his head as the brunette knitted her brow he continued, “It should not be so surprising, considering my reputation. But to think I would do anything so fiendish as to feign interest and affection in you.” He brushed his thumbs the length of her hand – from wrist to joint repeatedly.

He bowed his head some until their foreheads met. “Perhaps,” the Princess suggested, “It’s just not what they expected? Your Lady Mother seemed unsurprised.” The smile on her face was soft and warm. “My love, you are a far better man than any give your credit.”

From around the corner, Thor observed his brother and their mother’s ward. The way they looked at one another, the change in Loki’s demeanor from guarded to wholly open, the entire interaction spoke volumes. To any who saw them together, who were allowed that privilege (or chose to spy like he had) could only agree that the pair were nothing if not affection and in love with one another. He smiled, watching them a moment longer before slipping away as quiet as possible.

It made him think on as many of the interactions between the pair that he could. Althea had been shunned by Asgardians and Elves alike over the years. Save for Loki and Queen Frigga. The pair had welcomed her into the house, all entirely unsurprising. Loki had shielded her from what misery he could. For her part, Althea had shown Loki a kindness and trust that none had since he began his studies in magic and showed a talent for manipulating the truth and world around them.  


	4. Chapter 4

As the doors to Odin’s Great Hall closed, Loki slipped out from behind one of the columns. He’d hidden in the background while the King of Elphame and his retinue made another of their annual visits. It was nothing but show. A play for Odin’s benefit so the King could check in on his daughter and see if she’d married Thor yet. The King never once asking his daughter what (or who) she wanted.

Practically on cue, the Elven Princess turned to face him - a soft smile spread over her face. The sight of the younger prince caused her to sigh in relief,  “Loki,” she asked, “You always stay behind in the Great Hall, why is that?” The annual game commenced. At her insistence, and out of fear of what her father would do to him, they played at being only friends for the days the Elves were in Asgard. So far it had worked and none in her family were   any the wiser. Though Frigga, Sif, and Thor all thought it foolish.

He laughed, crossing the room to be beside her. “I stay because I would see you smile my lady; you so seldom do when your father graces us with his presence.” Interlocking his fingers with hers, Loki held the Elf princess close, his blue eyes searched her own starry ones.

“Father pressed the issue again,” she whispered, exasperated. He led her to the stairs along the side of the room. Once they were seated, she rested her cheek on his shoulder – eyes squeezed shut. A few servants milled about, setting tables and changing banners for the habitual feast that concluded the Elphame visit. “He even came close outright to naming your brother this time.” It was her greatest fear, Loki knew, that her Father could still force her into marriage with Thor.

He rubbed small circles on her arm with his thumb and finger tips. Loki smiled, “It’s past time I petitioned father to officially grant me your hand - Iam a Prince of Asgard. Mother would support us, and Thor.” The last few dozen Elphame visits, he had suggested doing exactly that. And every year they resolved to wait another year, once her Elven family left Asgard. Neither was keen on the potential ramifications for Asgard if they did ask for permission to do as they liked. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, they always agreed.

“It’s not your father’s blessing that worries me,” she sighed, shaking her head. A few strands of dark hair fell free from her braid, brushing the sides of her face.

He smiled softly, the kind of smiles he kept for her alone, “I know my love.”  Shifting and cupping her cheek, he tilted the Elf’s face to his and whispered, “But Asgard will survive. It’s you I worry about.”

Neither of them heard the doors open. Only the shrill scream of Althea’s younger sister, when she saw Loki brush his lips Althea’s own.

“Traitor! Get your filthy hands away from her,” she shrieked, charging across the room to the pair. Instinctively, Loki jumped up from his seat and put himself between Althea and the other elf-maiden. The same as he had done a thousand times before.

When Silwen reached around him and tried to latch onto her, Althea pulled away tucking herself further behind the younger prince. “Prince of Lies! Of Treachery,” she shrieked, the language of Asgard was clearly not her strong suit. She turned back to Elvish, “Bastard! She is meant for Thor! If you touch her…Defiler! Oathbreaker! And you sister! You betray your house! Your people! For this filth!” They saw the idea light up in her eyes as she called for Odin’s Einherjar - two of whom guarded the main doors to the room – and the Elven Royal Guards who’d accompanied the diplomatic visit.

Silwen, unlike their brother or Althea, always presumed she had more power than she possessed. All despite the fact that their brother was the heir apparent to the Elphame throne. Foolishly, she presumed that her sister and Loki would remain in the Great Hall and wait for the guards to detain them. That once detained they would wait patiently for their respective parents to return.

Even Thor, off with Sif and Gelathir, would have known better.

In the split second where the silver-haired elf’s back was turned, the Asgardian prince and his beloved ran. Disappearing under an illusion and making a break for a back corridor. They slipped along the back passages that led through Odin’s palace.  Loki grinned, ear to ear as Silwen howled - searching for her sister. Even as they exited the passages, down near their preferred library – full of magical tomes -  he could hear her voice echoing.

Althea, however, cupped her hands to her face and sank onto one of the small sofas in the book-lined room. “She sent guards for our fathers,” she whispered harshly, shaking and blinking back tears. The color draining from face, what had been years of games to keep her eternally watchful sister (and by default the rest of the family) from catching on had finally failed.

“My love,” he whispered, kneeling before her. One hand rested on her waist, the other gently brushed loose strands of hair back off her face, “We both knew it was only a matter of time before any of them learned.” Sliding his arms around her waist, Loki calmed his frightened friend, “It’s alright, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” The same promise he’d made to her as children. All those years earlier when she arrived on Asgard.

—

Odin sat in his throne as Loki and Althea were brought before them. The Einherjar had inevitably found them hiding in yet another of the great libraries. It had been the final plays they stopped to hide and think. Where Loki thought they might be safe; it was a scene they’d played out as children when they would hide the Elven retinue as children. After, of course, Loki brought Althea back to herself.

The Asgardian king watched as the Elven princess shifted closer to his younger son. It hadn’t been Arantar Tavasion’s plan, of course, but this had happened and Odin was of no mind to destroy the soul-bond between the pair. Not if he wanted to continue enjoying the affections and counsel of his own Queen. She had grown quite close to the girl, thinking of her in many ways as more of a daughter (as often happens with wards) than her charge.

He smiled behind his beard as his son laced his hand with Althea’s. Even when Arantar Tavasion twitched at the gesture between the pair, Odin’s smile grew greater.

“My lord Odin,” Arantar Tavasion began, diplomatic as ever, “I should like to speak with my daughter. Alone.”

Loki spoke before his father or Althea could, “Anything you have to say to her can be said here. I’m sure that nothing could be so private that her guardians would be unable to hear it from you, the Liege Lord of Elphame.”  At the end of the day, it was just one in a long line of challenges. He had stopped showing anything beyond the most basic formal respect to the Elf king over the years just as the king ceased showing any real affection for Althea.

Loki had only attempted any form of civility for her sake. Hand still linked with hers, he could tell the princess had begun to shake ever so slightly. This was her worst fear made real.

Clearing his throat, the Elven King looked between the princeling and his father. Minutes passed and when Odin made no motion for his family  to leave the room the King sighed heavily. “Very well child,” he grumbled, the dislike for both Loki and the situation thinly veiled. Clearing his throat, he began, “My Lord Odin, my daughter Althea was left in the care of your house in order to strengthen the bond between our two Realms. Pursuant to that, she was supposed to wed a Prince of Asgard upon reaching marriageable age – which she has been for a sometime now. With that in mind, I officially petition you to marry her to Thor.”

Immediately her face turned red, body flushed, she was practically hyperventilating. Without missing a beat, Loki pulled the dark haired elf into his arms and worked to soothe the panicked princess. He’d turned away from the proceedings around them, attention on the princess as a long silence settled on the room. Swallowing, he said, “Then I petition for her hand myself. Althea deserves to marry someone who loves her.”

“No daughter of Elphame will marry a second class illusionist,” the Elven King spat. It was clear how much he disliked Loki thought he wouldn’t outright say it. The boy had always rubbed the King the right way. He felt he was disrespectful and a liar. There was also something about him, the king couldn’t put his finger on, but he suspected Loki was not who or what he appeared to be. His gaze shifted from his daughter and the prince to Odin, who was quickly becoming less and less amused by the situation.

 Frigga rested a hand on Odin’s shoulder. Leaning down to speak to him softly, inaudibly to the others, “Husband, let Loki marry her. Their affections are evident to all who see them. Let them be happy. Elphame will, for the sake of that treatise, be satisfied – Loki is still Asgard’s prince.”

Odin chuckled, perceptible only to her, “For once my dearest, I am ahead of you with respect to our children.”

A soft smile spread across Frigga’s face, ear to ear practically, and she kissed his cheek. It was a swift, soft gesture but spoke volumes with respect to their relationship. All present had heard the stories of the whirlwind courtship, love at first sight, and how Frigga’s cunning often kept him out of trouble more than his own prowess in battle. “Very good my King,” she said and the others suspected she had winked at the Asgardian king.

“Arantar Tavasion,” Odin boomed, “I will not be told what decisions to make in my kingdom. Our agreement dictates she must be wed to a Prince of Asgard. I have two sons, one of whom has clearly outlined his intent to wed Lady Althea. The other, has not once voiced any affection beyond those he would show a near-sister or other close kin. As such,” he continued, quickly cutting off the complaints of the Elven king, “I will grant Loki’s request to wed Althea.” The pair let out sighs in relief. He could see them in his peripheral vision, relaxing somewhat into each other.

With his attention diverted, the Elf protested, “It is a breach of the treaty! The intent was for our kingdoms to be joined through the marriage of my daughter to you son Thor!”

“I have made my decision, old friend,” Odin snapped.


	5. Chapter 5

 A great many happy years had passed and still Elphame was allied - strongly - with Asgard. Althea’s mother had prevailed, it seemed, in convincing his now-father-in-law not to do anything foolish. Like launching a full scale incursion into Asgard. It seemed like a wise choice. All of this, however, came to them thanks to a letter sent to Althea by her mother.  It allowed their time to pass without incident, even if the visits from the Elven rulers.

 Loki stood anxiously outside the doors of what served as his quarters in the Royal wing. After everything that had happened, how could he ask her to accept this. He had become, or perhaps had always been, the very thing he’d been taught to hate and fear. His father had lied, his mother too it seemed - though to be fair, Lady Frigga had never given him cause to feel unloved or like a second rate child.  But that was Lady Frigga, she could truly say she loved her sons equally where Odin’s actions spoke volumes.

 “You’ve been pacing the corridors for hours my love,” Althea’s voice was like music. Reflexively , he turned and saw the bright eyed elven princess make her way towards him from a side hall. The main door the their apartments at his back as she approached. He felt like he couldn’t look at her. His oldest friend, the person he loved most was about to have her world shattered as his had been. When he didn’t respond, she called to him, “Loki?”

 One of hands came to rest on his arm and he smiled at the elf for a moment. “It’s…it’s very complicated my love,” he said, the strength and self-awareness she was so used to hearing had been drained away.

 Before she could call to him again, he sighed, “There is much to discuss.”

 With those words and a wave of his hand, the doors to their rooms opened just enough to allow the acting-King of Asgard and his unaware queen to pass. Despite Althea settling into one of the sofas in the sitting room, Loki continued to pace. Wringing his hands he spoke at a speed she hadn’t heard since they were children, before her exile. His voice low but anxious, “Do you remember what I told you happened in Jotunheim?”

 She nodded. 

“I…I…I went to the vault, touched the casket. I…”he looked away, not registering when the elf rose from her seat. There were times she was infinitely more stealthy than he was, in particular when he was distracted.

 Against his the sides of his face her hands were warm and welcome. He calmed some, enough to look her in the eye, his own red from tears cried and the confusion of the last several hours. She didn’t speak but he knew her well enough to know what she would say. He smiled, reaching up and taking her hands from his face.

 Exhaling he closed his eyes, “Odin, my father,” the way he said that held both anger confusion but he continued, “I…I am not a son of Odin. Not truly.” He paused, looking carefully over her face. Brows were furrowed, bright eyes swimming with confusion. “He found me during the war with Jotunheim. I’m…my parents…” he swallowed, “I am Laufey’s son. I’m a frost giant.” The words practically burned as they tumbled from his lips.

 When Althea kissed him it startled the Asgardian Prince…Jotunn Prince (?). Eyes wide as she pulled back, “No. You’re still Loki. Who your parents are or were is unimportant.” His heart pounded for a moment as she continued, “You are a great sorcerer and good man.”

He had expected her to recoil. No one wanted to be around the Frost GIants. Hel, he wanted to lock himself away as soon as was possible in many ways. Despite her acceptance, no matter how sincere, he was afraid that the nature of his birth could still push everyone away. Chewing the inside of his lower lip, Loki regarded her in a cautious manner - something he’d never done before. “You’re not…concerned,” he asked, carefully choosing his words.

 The elf knew him better than he knew himself and turned that question on his head, “You mean am I going to leave?” Brow raised, and eyes locked with his.

 He cast his gaze down, red crawling into his cheeks, ashamed for ever asking. “No my dearest, I am afraid you are stuck with me,” there was a smile in her voice despite the seriousness of her expression.

 “You are the only one I can rely on,” he said shakily. For hours, since Odin collapsed on the vault stairs, he had felt like his whole world was falling apart. The conversation with his mother had helped to give him some balance but did nothing to stop his world’s upheaval. This conversation, however, was like landing on solid ground after years at sea. Now he also had a direction, a plan beginning to formulate in his mind, one that would change everything.


	6. Chapter 6

Frigga rested a hand on Althea’s shoulder, her daughter-in-law watched - searched - the scrying pool Frigga kept in her chambers. The girl had been locked away in her own chambers for several weeks since Loki had fallen from the Bifrost. She’d seen it from much farther back on the Bifrost and collapsed, voice stolen from her throat. It had been Sif, running up behind the other woman, that caught her before Althea hit the ground. 

Until the feast, some days after the battle and his fall, Sif stayed with her friend. After the feast, which Althea did not attend, she had been visited by the Shield-maiden and Lady Frigga. “He is not dead,” she whispered, a hand waving over the pool. “That much I can tell daughter. I have not yet, however discerned where he may be. The Nine Realms are vast and he fell into the event horizon of an uncontrolled Bifrost.” She paused, feeling the brunette shudder. She was crying again. Loki’s loss cut her deeply - beloved, friend, and dearest companion gone in one blow.

 Kneeling beside her, Frigga took Althea by the shoulders and turned her so they faced on another. “Dear, kinda Althea, you must be strong. We will find him,” she paused, brushing some of the tears off elf’s cheeks, “You will find him.”  

 A servant entered the room behind them, a large platter in hand. “But first,” Frigga continued, pulling Althea to her feet, “You must eat. These spells are not easy and they are draining.” She had to resist the urge to hold her daughter-in-law and cry with her. Frigga had nearly lost Odin only once before, so she could empathize with the girl. “We will find him,” she whispered,

 This started what turned into months of scrying spells and astral project - the latter a feat known to the elf, though she had taught the skill to Loki. Or at least attempted to, at any rate. The early days after the feast following the destruction of the Bifrost and Loki’s fall, Althea and Frigga spent the bulk of their time searching for him to no avail. There came  a point, as their fruitless search continued, Frigga had to begin to accept the possibility that her younger son had indeed not survived the fall off the Bifrost. She began to mourn her son as dead as opposed to one who was merely missing, leaving Althea to search alone.

 –

 “She still searches for him I take it,” Odin asked, standing at one of the many balconies that overlooked the central courtyard in the Asgardian palace. A part of him was angry with his son for his actions but he still loved the misguided Prince.

 Frigga nodded, “One day she may accept that he is truly gone, but to force her to do so will only have detrimental effects.” She’d seen it before, friends and countrymen whose lives ended too soon because of the grief from a loss.

 They watched her walk across the courtyard, pausing for a moment to speak with Sif and Thor - both lately returned from the outskirts of the city. It was a brief interaction but the pair saw the hugs received from the two warriors before the Elf resumed her path towards one of the doors on the far side. “He should not have fallen in this way,” Odin said softly, shaking his head, “They have both been through too much.”

 “Perhaps if we had not agreed to conceal Loki’s origin from him,” Frigga said, almost lost in thought.

 Odin sighed, “Perhaps. But it does nothing to help us now.”  His voice was still laced with sorrow, even months on away from the battle on the Bifrost. He could still hear Loki’s last words I could have done it, Father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us! Those words rang in his ears day and night, mocking him for his failure to save the younger prince. The son he once saved from death, in the midst of a bloody battlefield.  “We have a lost a son and I fear we may lose a daughter if we are not careful,” his voice broke with the fear.

 Putting a hand on her husband’s shoulder, Frigga comforted him as best she could, “We will be there for her.”

 –

  The last thing she remembered was snuffing the lights in her all too empty bed chamber. Yet she was now standing, long hair free about her, wearing what appeared to be the same dress she’d had on the day he vanished. “Althea?!”

 Those words caused her heart to pound and pulse to race. Wheeling around, she could see now that they were on the astral plane. The realm between realms where they could walk for a time unhindered by their bodies. She ran to the dark haired prince, calling his name, “Loki! Loki you’re alive!” He couldn’t be there if he weren’t.

 His arms encircled her waist as the elf’s own went around his shoulders. They crashed together like they did whenever he returned from adventures with Thor and the others. Those events she’d been unable to travel with them for. “I am,” he whispered between kisses, “I am.”

 “You’re crying,” he said, pulling back as several tears brushed against his cheek. Reaching up, he brushed them away, letting his hand linger against her cheek. Despite being projections of themselves, he could still feel the warmth of her touch.

 Shakily she started, “I saw you fall, feared you were lost forever. That we might…that we might never see each other again. But…” Her words trailed off, too overwhelmed and relieved to formulate the words she wanted.

 Bowing his head to hers, he spoke, “I don’t have long.” He watched Althea’s brow furrow, confused, as she began rubbing the back of his neck. Feeling her fingers intertwine with his long hair, he continued, “Soon, I’ll return. Do you remember the pathways I showed you?” She nodded, they’d used them time and again to sneak to Midgard and even - as an anniversary gift one year - to visit her mother in Elphame without being caught. “When I come to you, take those paths to Midgard.”

“Why? Why not come home. Now,” her question wasn’t without merit. And if he could return, he surely would have but the Prince had a plan that required more time.

Kissing her forehead he promised, “I will return, I promise. Just not yet, I have much to do yet my love.” He paused. They both heard something that sounded like a heavy door being scraped across a floor. “Go, I will see you soon my love,” he looked at her almost sadly, bright blue eyes heavy, “My life…” those words were barely audible as the darkness faded in and obscured her vision.

She woke up, shooting bolt up right, calling out for him, “Loki!” Realizing she was back in their bedchamber, his side of their bed cold - albeit no longer untouched - she hung her head. He was alive and had plans to return, the rest. Everything around them, had been a blur - details too out of focus to give her any clue to his location or even those around him.

–

More months passed with no further astral projections. No more contact from her beloved Loki save for the strange feeling that someone was watching her.  Althea spoke of none of this to Frigga for Odin, nothing beyond the first interaction she had with the prince on the astral plane. That was until , as she meditated - attempting to astral project as an exercise without purpose - did she and Loki reunite again.

 This time, everything was clear. She could see, behind him, a rocky world with dark skies. Stars unlike any she had ever seen, only now…now he was in full armor. “Beloved,” she asked, “What…why are you dressed for battle?”

 He turned, crossing the rocky ground to the smooth marble floor of their chambers. It was like two pictures bleeding together. “Be ready Althea,” he whispered, “We’ll be together again very soon.”

Then he turned sharply, “Mother? I’m sorry, now just isn’t a good time.” As he waved his hand at something she couldn’t see. The vision dissipated and Althea came back to the conscious realm with a  start. Little did she know, he had looked behind him to see her only to be greeted with the expanse of the craggy barren world under Thanos’ rule. Worlds away, they both shared the same sorrowful face. He whispered, “This is the only way, I am sorry, my beloved.”


	7. Chapter 7

During his assault on the earth, Althea had watched Loki through a small scrying pool in their rooms. A shallow basin resting on a pedestal shaped like the world tree. There came a point, where he stood apart from the small army he had amassed and Althea could see the stress and fatigue on his face. Something was wrong, what she wasn’t entirely sure. “Loki,” she whispered, clutching a spot where two of the stone tree’s branches wrapped around the vessel. She knew touching the water’s surface would dispel her view.

“Althea,” Loki said curiously, head snapping so he seemed to stare at her head on. “I hope you can see me love,” he whispered after a moment, “Be proud of me.”

Squeezing her eyes closed she thought, I…I don’t know if that’s possible. Not with that you’re about to do. Her heart ached and she saw everything. His attack in Stuttgart, apprehension by Thor and his friends, and his assault on Midgard with that army of Chitauri. Unlike Frigga, she never saw Thanos or his speaker when she found Loki. When Hulk threw Loki about like a rag doll she reached out, hand breaking the surface of the water. “No! Loki,” voice little more than a breath.

–

Loki could barely look at Althea as he was led into the throne room. The Einherjar stopped when she stepped into their path. Little did either know, insofar as the All-Father was concerned, it was to be the last time he would see or ever be able to touch his beloved wife. Hands shackled before him, Loki managed to lace his fingers in with hers. “My one regret is that you have suffered,” he whispered, bowing his head to hers.

She pulled a hand free and pressed it to his cheek. It was like ice on a burn, a warm bath, everything he’d wanted for so long. He’d been starved the last year, for a kind embrace and the kiss that followed. His senses were practically overwhelmed. “Whatever the All-father does, remember that I love you,” he said after a moment, still reveling in the brief moment they had together.

Pressing her lips to his she whispered, “I love you too you know.”

“LOKI,” Odin bellowed from the far end of the hall. The Einherjar guarding him ripped Loki from the Elf in a move fitting treatment of only the worst prisoners, not one of their princes. A former king. The confrontation with his adoptive Father resulted in a lifetime of imprisonment. His father had given him his life but not without a catch. He would never see his mother again and he would be separated from Althea. The two people he cared about, cut off from him forever.

Disbelief, shock, and despair all played across his face as Loki was led from the room. Neither his mother no Althea anywhere to be seen. He was certain they were receiving the news, the All-father’s judgement that they could never see him again. It would break his mother’s heart and shatter Althea, of that he was certain. He was so lost in through, running the paths in his mind that might free him – and them – from this outcome that he didn’t realize the guards had placed him in a cell until the soft humming of the barrier hit his ears. He turned, looking at the stark, emptiness of his corner cell before sinking to the ground. Despite being a Frost Giant and possessing a resilience to cold, he shivered. This room was the coldest place he had ever been and it froze him to the core.

Weeks passed alone in the cell.

Slowly, furniture arrived. Things that had once been in the small solarium in his apartments. Books. Food. Fresh clothes. All things he needed, all comforts he would have been denied if Odin had his way. These, he was certain, were from Frigga. Though some, he assumed, came from Althea – especially the pillow that had been on her side of their bed. It smelled of the Elf. For the first time in months, he cried – face buried in the pillow.

Another fortnight came and went, “I’m sorry this took so long,” Althea said. Her voice, always so melodic was like a light in the dark.

He turned, setting down one of the books on the bed he’d received. “I thought we were prohibited from ever seeing one another again,” he questioned, eyeing his wife through the barrier that kept him from bringing her into his arms.

“Mother has her ways,” she said, fidgeting with the clasp of her long belt.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and, despite himself, Loki cautioned, “I can see the gears in your mind turning, darling. Be careful lest you end up down here in one of these cells.” No matter how much he wished to be free, he wouldn’t put her in any position where she’d be so caged. “It doesn’t matter that I, a king, should be confined to my apartments. No,” his mind seemed to wander, “No. I’ll not have my queen share this fate.”

“Loki, I am already a prisoner here,” she corrected, ignoring his momentary delusion of regency, “My steps are watched, my every move, every decision scrutinized as though I led the attack on Midgard at your side!” Not that she wouldn’t have given the opportunity. No, she and Frigga were certain that had either of them been physically there, been where he was, that they might have provided the counsel to stop that madness before it ever began.

He wanted badly to reach out and comfort his bride. The ache of her loss only served to fuel the resentment and anger he felt for his brother and – more importantly – for Odin. Everything that had happened was his father’s fault. He had lied to all of them then denied Loki even the base acceptance that what he did may have stemmed from more than the trickster’s own designs. That maybe, even in some small way, the All-father wasn’t infallible. That he could share some of the blame for what had transpired. Words measured, he instinctively reached out towards her until his hand pressed against the barrier between them, “One day, my love, you and I will both be free of his…oppression.”

–

Althea continued to visit him, she would not abandon him. Though the only time she could truly see him was between Odin’s assigned scouting missions throughout the nine realms and whatever other duties Loki’s adoptive father could concoct for the Elf. He knew, and Frigga all but confirmed, that it was done to punish him. He cursed, hurling a small wine glass as the barrier separating him from everything. At least being able to see and speak with Althea in person helped ease some of the torment of living in a cage. “Mother,” he apologized, “I did not…I’m sorry.”

He sighed, turning to face his mother’s projection.

Smiling at him, and moving a few steps - the extent of her range - the Asgardian Queen consoled her son, “You need not apologize.” She was calming despite not being there in person. She had always been that way, able to quell fights between the Princes and Odin as well as their individual passions. Though once Althea had become her ward, the Queen had had help with Loki at least.

And Thor…to a lesser extent.

Sinking to a seat on the bed she had arranged to have sent down, Loki’s melancholy took shape, “He punishes her to punish me, mother. Punishes you both. “ He wanted desperately to say that he was starved for the touch of another person. At least he’d been allowed a few moments with Althea before he was practically dragged down and thrown into his current accommodations. It had been the last kindness Odin showed him of his own volition.

Everything else, even being allowed to see his mother and beloved had been achieved by Frigga. She had scolded the Asgardian King, effectively shamed him into cutting off his son from everyone. It still didn’t replace the power of a hung, or a touch. How Althea, who he had been separated from for a year already, smelled of their little garden oasis. Of the grass, trees, flowers, and the handful of herbs that grew there.

“My dearest son,” Frigga said, watching his face fall despite his silence. “Do not despair. There may yet come a time when your father will release you from this and back to your place with us.” He was too tired to be his normal snarky self.

He laughed breathily, rubbing his face. “Odin will never let me out of this place,” he was fighting back the tears that threatened to break his resolve. Never allow a reunion with my family, he thought, eyes falling on the silver-gold band around his finger left ring- it matched the one Althea’s own hand. Twisting it around his finger, his mind wandered. He never saw how heavy his mother’s face was with sorrow as her projection vanished.

“Mother means well,” Althea said, coming up to Loki’s cell.

He grumbled, “How much did you hear of that?”

“Only mother’s hope that Odin will release you my love,” she said.

There was something in her demeanor, her words that gave the melancholy Prince pause. Pushing himself off the bed, is long strides carried him to the barrier in moments. Eyes narrowed and brow furrowed he asked, “What have you done Althea?”

A sheepish smile flashed across her face, then her eyes fell, “Nothing, yet. But I am working on something, with the convergence nearly upon us there may yet be a chance.” The gears had been turning almost since his return, if not beforehand. How to keep him out of Odin’s Dungeons and safe from the ax. The convergence of the Nine Realms was fortuitous, it offered her a dozen possible solutions and places they could disappear to.

“Do not forget what I told you when first you visited me here,” he warned, brows raised slightly. Pressing a hand to the barrier, just enough to avoid triggering its ability to burn flesh, he continued, “Whatever you do decide, be careful. The All-father’s wrath will not be stayed just because you were Frigga’s ward.” Her hand pressed back to his. These half touches were the closest they had been to one another in nearly a year. The force of their hands, separated by the magical energy, the only touch they could share. He swallowed, “I would rather this be all we can have than for the All-father to do something that would sunder us completely.”

He was right. She knew it. But she had to do something! If there was anything to be done. “If I’m able to find a way,” she continued, her voice low, “It will be soon, when the convergence is at its peak.”

Loki nodded slowly. “You’ve become quite devious my dear,” he murmured.

“I learned from the master,” she added, using her free hand to press a kiss from her lips to the barrier. If anyone else had been paying attention they would have seen the Trickster falter at the gesture. Seen his face and his resolve break, even as the Elf fought to retain her own composure.


	8. Chapter 8

She had hoped to have Loki out of his cell sooner but the arrival of the Dark Elves successfully derailed that plan. She cursed them. Their existence, their dead and dying world, all of them. Her father should have been more thorough. Hel, Bor should have! Not only had their invasion halted her plan to free Loki and flee Asgard but they were assailing the whole city so even getting back from the prison to the main palace proved problematic.

 When the alarms began trumpeting, Loki’d ordered her to safety. To hide. To just be as far away from the chaos and death as she could get. That was before she’d turned into the great hall, barely missing a one-way trip to Valhalla. A ship, full of Dark Elves crashed through the stone and slid to halt several dozen feet from the throne room. She had only just managed to duck as its long blade like wing severed the column above her head.

 This hall had seen the signing of the treaty that left her stranded in Asgard, her marriage ceremony to Loki, Thor’s near-coronation, and so much more. Now, she stood frozen behind the broken column watching as the Dark Elves destroyed everything in their path. Einherjar pulled into what looked like miniature black holes or shot dead. If she stayed, she might well join them.

Like a shadow, she raced down the corridors towards her rooms only to find Jane Foster - Thor’s Midgardian consort near the reflecting pool. “What are you,” she muttered, barring the doors behind her with magic and stone.

Jane blinked, jumping back a step or two, “Lady Althea…I…Queen Frigga hid me here because of this,” She pointed at the smaller reflecting pool as the Queen stepped forward into the room. Well, her projection anyway.

“Jane, listen to me – Althea,” the Queen gasped, “Good. I need your help.”  She nodded dutifully. She would do for Frigga almost as much as she was willing to for Loki. “You and Jane must stay in your rooms. We’ll use the reflecting pools to make it appear as though we are all together. Can you cast an illusion so your surroundings mirror mine?”

Swallowing she answered, “Yes but…I should be there with you. Should anything happen –“

The Queen held up her hand, silencing her daughter in law as she often had her sons. “I will be alright. With the Aether trapped in Jane, her safety is paramount. Besides, I was a shieldmaiden of Asgard long before I was its Queen.” The golden haired woman smiled broadly, her face taking on a youthful appearance that Althea had never seen. “Now, do the conjuration. Keep yourselves in your apartments and do not leave. Do you understand me daughter?”

Nodding she waved her hands. Ribbons of light traced in the air around the elf’s hands as she moved them. The simple look of her sitting room – it’s long couches, the small fonts of water, tall bookcases – melted away. In their place stood the long curtains, high ceilings, and the large reflecting pool of the queen’s study. They could see the balcony; everything that Frigga could. Through the sister reflecting pools, anyone who entered either room would presume the trio were together.

When Malekith finally burst into the Queen’s chambers, the Elf reached instinctively for Frigga – recoiling when she remembered any touch would shatter their carefully cast illusion. Swallowing, she and Jane backed away from the Dark Elf. Thankfully their separate rooms were similar in size so when Jane hit the wall of Althea’s room she did the same in Frigga’s own. The Dark Elf grabbed for Jane and her illusion dissipated. Immediately, as he turned on Frigga, the queen raked an arm through Althea’s own projection, dispelling it.

“No,” she cried, reaching out to steady herself on the reflecting pool as bookcases and couches melted back into place through the frozen image of her queen confronting Malekith. Nothing could happen to Frigga. No. She moved on adrenaline alone and made for a side door, one that opened into the hidden corridors she and Loki and so often exploited. Without fail, Thor’s paramour followed her.

As they rounded a corner, Jane caught the elf by the shoulder, “What’s going on! She told us to stay put!”

“She is in danger, I’ll not abandon her for my own sake,” her words were quick, and clear; almost biting. She would not entertain conversation with the brunette, not now.

The pair ran, the number of Einherjar increasing as they neared Frigga’s chambers. With each turn in the corridors they grew closer until they heard thunder crack and a roar that could only belong to Thor. Their paced slowed ever so slightly. “Thor,” Jane whispered, exhaling softly  - relieved.

By contrast, Odin practically knocked over the pair when he rushed past as they entered the main halls nearest Frigga’s rooms. A knot formed in Althea’s stomach and she broke into a sprint to keep up with her father-in-law. Something was very wrong.

The king’s steps faltered. He moved almost robotically until he was in Frigga’s chambers. The two women followed until they reached the door - where Jane stopped, color draining from her face at the scene before them.

Odin sank to his knees and collected his wife’s body in his arms. Silent cries erupting from him as he rocked her otherwise delicate looking from. The deceased Queen – the best of them -  looked as if she were asleep. Like she might wake, despite the blood trickling down from the corner of her mouth and the spreading stain on the her side.

 On the balcony stood Thor, anger and grief played across his face in turn. While Althea dropped to her knees – heart pounding as tears fell down her cheeks and her hands fluttered up to cover her mouth.

The next several hours moved in slow motion. Thor rested a hand on his sister-in-law’s shoulder, squeezing it gently before collecting Jane and slipping out of the room. She remembered Sif pulling her to her feet or leading her back to her chambers. She stood in the center of the room as Sif disappeared back out the doors, summoned to some duty or other as they collected the bodies of all those killed. Her main concern, however, was Loki.  After a few moments taken to compose herself, the elf took off towards the prison.

–

“My Lord,” the Einherjar standing before his cell spoke.

Loki looked up from his book, closing it as he listened to the messenger sent down to his cell. “Yes,” he said, expecting to hear about the mayhem upstairs. That his was to be further punished due to some injury that had befallen his adoptive father and brother or, less likely, that one of them was dead. What he heard instead, shook him to the core.

With a faltering, broken voice the Einherjar delivered the earth shattering news. “Your Lady Mother, Queen Frigga, fell defending the realm, at the hands of the Dark Elf Malekith,” he said slowly, carefully. “I am sorry my lord.” What he didn’t say was who had authorized the man to tell him, whether it was Odin or Thor – he suspected his brother more than his adoptive father. Thor would want him to be able to say goodbye to their mother in whatever way he could from his cell.

As the messenger left , Loki let out a shout and released a telekinetic blast that scattered the furniture in his room. The arms broke off his chair. The chair arms bounced back across the room, colliding with the glass wine vessels. Their contents had already been spilled across marble floor. As if blocking an attack, he swung his left arm, another telekinetic burst sending his fruit bowl and both broken end tables smashing into the two barriers. Immediately, he swung, sending the ruined fruit and wine against the stone walls.

He wanted to be sick. Everything hurt with the news of his mother’s death, a pain he never thought possible. Didn’t matter that he knew, logically, that all the gods of Asgard would one perish. That he was foretold to bring about Ragnarok - not a prophecy he enjoyed but all the same. No matter how long they lived, all Asgardian lives were finite. Even the Elves of Elphame would one day perish - either with their mother star died or in battle. That was the way of things.

It didn’t make his need to dry heave - though he didn’t - any less urgent. Or the want of some feeling to verify that he was alive. That this wasn’t all just some dream any less necessary.

His jaw was taught, eyes burned with tears he didn’t want to shed. Not out here where everyone could see his anguish. A  chair flew across the room, followed by the bed. Everything whirled around the room like a tornado. He had no other outlet. No way of letting his anger and despair out but this way. As the pillow flew past, he reached out quickly, taking it in his arms and buried his face in it. Between what lingered of Althea’s smell and the comfort an embrace might give he sank into the corner near his bed, sobbing heavily.  

–

Groggily he opened his eyes, cell a mess he saw Althea seated on the steps as close to him as she could get. “How long have you been there,” he muttered, almost accusatory. Her face was as puffy and red as his.

“Long enough,” she said, voice breaking. “You were asleep, I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Not…not after this. After she…”

He swallowed, letting the pillow he’d slept with his face buried in fall to the ground as he stood. Pulling off his jacket, he felt more constricted, more bound than he had to date in this cell. Crossing to the other side of the cell he crouched beside Althea. Loki wanted desperately to sit with her, to console her as he knew she would console him. He managed, “How did…what happened?”

Dark hair waved back and forth as she shook her head. “I don’t know. I was the last one to her rooms…Thor, your brother, was the first of us to arrive. Then Odin, then Jane and I,” she explained, “Mother was…was…”

“I know,” he whispered. “I just…that I had been there,” he murmured, his hand against the barrier for a moment before he stood up. Anger filled him. His mother was dead. He could do nothing against the aggressor that had taken her life. He blamed himself – he had told the Kursed which stairwell to take towards the palace versus the gardens. He could not comfort his wife any more than he could find comfort himself within the confines of this cell. Standing, he kicked one of his broken chairs across the room. He slammed a fist into the wall, “This…this is my fault!”

His voice cracked on the words. “I told him where to go! But I  never…mother wasn’t…she shouldn’t!” He could barely get the words out. “I…” he swallowed, gasping as fresh tears broke free. “She was the best of us,” he whimpered crashing to his knees, “She should be here.”

Hands pressed to the barrier, Althea questioned, “My love, how could her death be your fault?” It wasn’t a real question as much as rhetorical. He was innocent, guilt ridden because he couldn’t save her perhaps but not at fault.

Through sobs, shoulders hunched and back to her he sobbed, “I told that…that monster how to get to the palace after it broke free.” The tears fell on his hands, fists balled on his thighs. “If I had been silent…if I hadn’t…” the sobs overwhelmed him and Loki sank all the way forward. His forehead was against the cool stone floor. He screamed again, crying hard.

Althea’s silence pained him as much as his own culpability. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do without being in the cell beside him. No balm so needed as a shoulder to cry on. The last time he’d felt a touch from his mother had been before Odin sentenced him to an eternity in this cell, cut off from everyone he loved. Even as he was racked with grief, he swore revenge. Swore that when he got out of that cell he would end the one who’d killed her then take his revenge on Odin for his part in the events that led to his mother’s death.

He let  out a shaky sigh, releasing another burst of power that further broke the bed and scattered what he’d already destroyed in his cell.


	9. Chapter 9

He stood beside the crude grave they had made for him. It at least showed that his brother still cared, somewhat. Granted, Thor and Jane had left his body on Svartalfheim. He felt so very loved, except not at all. At least they had thought to bury him, though getting unburied had taken some doing. After all, the magic necessary to not die from the sucking chest wound he’d suffered thanks to the last of the Kursed.

A few small hand movements and the burial mound was restored with just enough damage to reflect the wind-storm that raged close by. He sighed, casting the illusion that would allow him to appear as one of Odin’s Einherjar. Exhaling, he wandered back to the barely functional gondola. It had survived thus far, and he presumed they had buried him close to it so he would be easily found. Not that an Asgardian Burial mound wasn’t a beacon by itself.

He had, as he rode the gondola back towards his secret pathways, time to review his plan. Or more accurately to flesh it out. He would use his magic, his illusions to ensnare his father; effectively numbing the old Asgardian to everything then deposit him somewhere safe on Midgard, and take over as King. Much as he would like to end his adoptive father, he knew Frigga would never have forgiven him. Despite her absence, he would not cross that line. And Althea would likely never speak to or see him again if he did. “I’ll have to either lie to her or bring her into this,” he muttered as the ship crossed from the hidden pathway into Asgard.

The Elven Princess, he learned, had been charged with ensuring none of the remaining members of the “team” ended up too harshly punished for their treason. Thor had afforded him a moment with her before they left, a fleeting embrace he could feel if he thought about it and a kiss he’d longed for. “I’ll have to make a choice soon,” he sighed, pulling his composure together and working out the details of his story should the All-Father question him about how he got to and fro from Svartalfheim before any other Einherjar. And of course, why he was in the gondola stolen by the Princes and Jane Foster.

Even as he made his way to the Throne room, he never saw the Elf. She was likely in their chambers, he couldn’t go there, not yet. No, he had a mission. Exhaling he moved forward until he stopped at the risers for Odin’s throne. He swallowed and began the discussion with Odin. Reporting his supposed findings from Svartalfheim – how Jane and Thor were long gone and only his corpse remained. Ah, this would be delightful. He had to restrain the smile when Odin deduced the fictional body’s identity, “Loki,” the king said.

Though, as the trickster struck, he didn’t know if his adoptive father realized he stood in disguise before him. Not even Heimdall could see him. By the time he and his magically-fogged father was ensconced at the Assisted Living Facility, he was sitting comfortably on the throne, no one the wiser.

–

The throne room was empty, save for Odin – seated rather comfortably on the gilded chair. Althea lurked in the shadows, studying what appeared to be her father-in-law. She’d initially come into the room to speak with him about various plans to memorialize Loki. None of which included recovering his body from Svartalfheim. Now, watching him with all the courtiers and soldiers gone from the room and the servants were dismissed, her suspicions were starting to take shape. “I know you’re there Althea, why do you hide from your king,” he called jovially to her.

Oh yes, something was rotting in Denmark.

“My lord,” she said, wandering as innocently as possible from behind the pillars – certain he’d appreciate the move. “Why you refuse to recover my husband’s body, when you memorialize him so,” she motioned to the plans for a statue – it did him no justice – that sat on a side table.

Almost anxious, despite how practiced the response was, Odin spoke, “You have not been here Althea. Despite the pardons given Thor and his co-conspirators, I cannot send any through to Svartalfheim. That world is far too volatile.” He was correct, she’d spent a great deal of time away from Asgard on Vanaheim. Sif had been sent to recall her to the city and it had nearly ended in a fight between the two women.

“Without Loki, I do not wish to be on Asgard,” shame colored her words briefly. After all, that had been her task after they aided Thor in his plan to sneak to Svartalfheim. She’d been able to protect the others from the initial blow of the All-Father’s temper; though Heimdall and Sif had spent a few nights in the dungeons while both Volstagg and Fandral were under guard in the healing rooms. No one had yet been charged with treason, tried, beheaded, or banished.

There was a moment where Odin’s mouth twitched like he was about to smile.

She recovered herself quickly, taking a deep breath and continued, “Though, My Lord, I still wonder why you will not permit the recovery of Loki’s body. Unless..” words trailed off and Odin seemed to shift uncomfortably. “Unless there is nothing to be found.”

“With all of the instability,” he said quickly, “I am certain his body had been, um, lost to the Dark World.”

Eyes narrowed, head tilted to the side, “There never was a body. Was there?”

Odin chuckled breathily, his voice taking on a younger man’s tenor. Then, as he rose to stand, green light moved across the Asgardian king. It melted the illusion away until Loki stood before the dark haired elf in the otherwise abandoned hall. A wide grin on his face and eyes sparkling with joy – both at his ongoing trick and at her cleverness for figuring it out. “You’re an ass,” she said flatly.

He stopped, almost surprised at her response. “Oh come now my love,” a half laugh proceeded his words, “You know I would not leave you alone.”

“No, but you would allow me to believe you died while replacing your father,” there was no malice in her words only disappointment. For Loki that stung far worse than anger or hatred could, especially coming from the Elf.

Setting the spear gungnir aside, he glided down the stairs – just like in Stuttgart years earlier. His smile had disappeared, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I did it only to protect you,” he said softly, opening his arms as if waiting for an embrace.

“Now you sound like your father,” she said sharply, shaking her head. The dark haired elf stood still, jaw set she stood still. This was how they fought, on those occasions they did, a battle of wills and who could be more patient than an actual screaming match or fisticuffs. Loki knew better than anyone, even his late mother, that right now Althea was contemplating hitting him. Or turning on her heels and marching off – as she started to do.

With a few long strides he caught up to the elf and caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. “I’m sorry, I should have told you before I took my father’s place,” he apologized. Swallowing, he released her arm, “But I knew you would figure it out. You have always seen through my illusions.” He smiled.

“You’re an ass,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him, “And you’re lucky I love you.”

He smiled, “I know my love,” kissing the elven princess like he’d longed too since his return to Asgard. Loki knew better than to cast his anchor off. He’d done that once already and it had led him to entreat with Thanos, a decision he knew would come back to bite him eventually. For now at least, he felt like a planet drawn into the stable orbit around its mother star. 

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I used Tolkien Elven where I couldn’t find an appropriate mythological name (Greek for the Elves, because why the eff not).


End file.
